Safe
by flippednique
Summary: When Arthur Kirkland becomes a witness to his own wife's death, he fears not for his life, but for his son, Peter's. With the encouragement of his brothers, Arthur puts himself under the Witness Protection Program for the sake of peace and the time to recover. But is he really safe when the people helping him are the very same people that want him dead? Multiple Pairings.


"And why exactly did Socrates think of such a statement?"

It was usual for students to follow a certain routine once questions started flying. Of course number one; don't look at him. Everyone knows that when you look at the teacher he was more likely going to call you. Number two; don't look at a fellow classmate. That would mean you weren't paying attention to him and again he was more likely going to call you. Number three; don't look at your paper lest it may seem that you're wanting to be called but don't have enough courage to do so where if he notices, then you guessed it, he will call you.

To be safe, all you had to do was let your eyes wonder, or fix a perplexed expression on your face. That way it would seem you were thinking, or better yet, _philosophizing, _about something that could contribute to the class' discussion. If you ask one of the students in the back row they'd tell you to try and divide three hundred twenty-three with twelve- _works every time_.

Or at least that's what the little buggers thought.

Arthur Kirkland smirked at the sudden fall of silence. He had not expected anything less. This batch of students that he has had the pleasure (or displeasure) of teaching could give neither sense nor thought to what he had to discuss that day and for a teacher's part that was rather disappointing. He wished his students could participate more, that would make the conversation more lively and more fun to have and less like torture to them.

Perhaps he'd even have his students in an alive manner rather than the comma-like state they presented to him. Present in body but absent in mind. That sucked the most.

"Anyone? No one?" Arthur sighed and shuffled through his class record.

"Sir! James would like to answer!"

"What?" The aforementioned boy squawked in indignation and glared at his fellow first years but upon seeing Arthur staring at him, clearly expecting (he'd take what he could get out of these brats) stood up anyways to deliver. "Perhaps, what he means by saying that _a person who knows is a person who knows that he does not know_ is that a person... who is... humble enough to admit that he does not know about something... but is willing to learn about it is someone who is smart enough to realize that he does not know everything... if that makes sense."

Arthur smirked. The boy delivered. "Excellent answer. I love it. Absolutely brilliant."

"Thank you sir." James' cheeks colored but she sat back down, ignoring the cheerful pats her classmates had delivered to her back. It wasn't often that the boy answered, but he was full of bright ideas! It was such a shame that Ambridge Academy required a fourty percent on recitation otherwise he would have been one of those on the top of the class.

"I suppose I have nothing else to teach you today." Arthur announced, wanting to cut his students some slack. "There may or may not be a pop quiz on Thursday, keep that in mind."

Almost immediately everyone left, all except James. Arthur had expected as much.

"Professor Kirkland?"

"Yes James?" Arthur sat down in his big chair and waved the small blonde inside.

"My father came back from the states today." He smiled and produced a small parcel from inside his book bag. "I wanted to give you this to say thank you... for not failing me like everybody else did and of course for being my personal adviser of sorts."

Arthur stared at the offered parcel and shook his head. "There's no need for that James. I know what you're capable of, and that's why I passed you and about the advice, it's what anyone would do. You don't need to give me anything for it."

"I insist though." James pushed the parcel towards him. "I-I... I know you like... stuff like this and when I saw it in my da's stuff I knew you'd love it so... I... it's supposed to be mine but I'd like for you to have it."

Arthur, curiosity piqued, accepted the parcel and looked inside, right before he closed it once more, his eyes wide and his cheeks red. "W-Well James..."

"I knew you'd like it!" James cheered upon seeing the slight turn of his lips. "It's a collectible, it is."

"It's a l-lovely gift." Arthur nodded. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." James waved, blue eyes bright. "I'll be leaving then Sir Kirkland, thank you again!"

Arthur watched as his student left and once more looked into the parcel. He pulled the stuffed unicorn out and stroked the horn. "I think I'll name you Jeffrey."

* * *

"Da's home! Da's home!" Peter let out a massive squeal as Arthur entered the house, taking off his hat and coat and hanging them on the rack. The smell of something delicious greeted him as well as an armful of his most favorite person in the world.

"Hello there cretin!" Arthur scooped his son up into his arms and threw him into the air. The six year old squealed some more. The two rubbed noses, Arthur pressing a kiss to Peter's forehead. "How was your day?"

"Absolutely brill!" Peter cheered. "We had lot'sa fun at school today. Mr. Wang said that his friend came back from over the pond and that because of that we'd have a special presentation on all the landmarks he saw there! Plus some in Japan cause he's Japanese! Da, can we ever go to Amurica?"

"It's America Peter, and I don't know." Arthur nuzzled his nose into his son's neck and just breathed in his scent. God he missed Peter when he had to go to work.

"Mum says we can! She promised already!" Peter fussed.

Arthur clicked his tongue. "She has, has he?"

"I said no such thing Peter Malvric Kirkland." Becca Kirkland was the most beautiful woman in the world. To him at least. Arthur enjoyed the way his son fussed some more as his wife entered the living room. "I said we'd need to know what your father had to say before we made decisions."

"But that response's too long for me to remember." Peter whined and angled away from his father. Arthur had to do some quick maneuvering to keep his son in his arms and not in a pile on the floor.

"Suffer." Becca threw teasingly and grinned up at Arthur. "Hi."

"Hi." Arthur leaned forward and pressed his lips into a kiss.

Peter moaned. "Ewww."

"Oh hush." Becca pressed a kiss to his forehead and laughed when he moaned even louder. "Dinner'll be ready in a few."

"Can't wait." Arthur promised. He turned to his son as his wife returned to the kitchen. "How 'bout you and me play a game?"

Peter's pout disappeared. "What game?"

* * *

"My compliments to the chef." Arthur smiled as Becca set about clearing the dishes. He had offered but she insisted that he was tired, and boy he truly was. Peter was a dozing heap in his seat, folded over the table, full and content.

Arthur went about to take his son to his bedroom, tucking him in and kissing his head, before returning down stairs and washing the plates while Becca dried them and they talked. It was routine. They'd been married for the past six years (He had been twenty, she had been twenty-two) and now at twenty-eight they had a great system between them. It worked, they worked.

"How was your day then?" Arthur started as he swiped the sponge over his plate before dunking it in the water and leaving it there for Becca to retrieve and dry.

"Good." Becca hummed and proceeded to elaborate. "We're planning that party they've been raving about since July. Perhaps we'll get the chance to throw it this time. Well, we're hoping at least. I don't know if we're cursed or something but I must say that it fibbing rains every single time we try- especially when the Meldiv's host it!"

"It's England." Arthur chuckled and finished off the spoons and forks.

"I heard." Becca rolled her eyes as she finished the last of the cutlery. "What's in the bag you brought home?"

"Oh that?" Arthur wiped his hands on a towel. "A gift from James. His father's just got back and he said he knew I'd like it."

"Let me guess." Becca teased. "It's a stuffed pony?"

"You know me too well." Arthur leaned against the sink and crossed his arms over his chest. "Pray tell how was your day?"

"Not so good." Becca's face fell slightly. "I lost someone today."

"Oh love." Arthur pulled her close.

"She was such a lovely girl. Wasn't any older or younger than me." Becca spilled. "She seemed so happy but she came to see me so there must have been something wrong. Background spoke strongly of neglect and abandonment, reckless behavior, and often losing herself in her day dreams. It's a wonder she managed to get to where she was."

"What's that love?" Arthur asked softly, stroking his wife's back. Becca had a strong sense when it came to people, just like Arthur did. It was why he was a teacher and she was a psychologist. This also meant that they both got really attached to people quite fast. Becca more than Arthur. Losing this patient was hard for his wife and by God he was going to let her vent.

"She's a baker. Not very big yet but she was on her way." Becca choked on a sob. "She succumbed to depression Arthur. She let it get to her and I thought I was helping! God I thought we were making progress but no! They found her in her apartment with her wrists slit and her eyes wide open. I failed her! I failed her family and I am a horrible person!"

"Becca, shh. Listen to me. This is most certainly not your fault. You couldn't have known love."

"That's the thing! I _should _have! She tells me everything so I should have _known_!"

Arthur sighed and gripped his struggling wife in his arms and let her sob. There was nothing he could do but let her get this off her chest. Perhaps after that she could work on the idea that her patient gave up on herself and that would never ever be her fault.

* * *

"Professor Kirkland?" Arthur paused from where he was hurriedly packing his bag. He didn't need to stop to know who it was speaking to him but he did so out of politeness and respect. If the boy was upset he could not afford to sadden him further. Especially not now when he couldn't stay for a talk.

"I'm sorry James but I have to get home."

"Th-This wont' take long honest!" The blonde boy insisted, his eyes glazed over. "I just have to tell you something very important."

"Could it really not wait James?" Arthur asked and turned back to his packing. "I promise we'll have a talk later but I have a very bad feeling about something and I just have to get home now."

"That's the thing!" James cried. "I… You know how I told you about how my father isn't really that… favorable except in America and that he has connections that keep him well… informed about… stuff. I heard that someone had done something big just the other day and more so they said something about an unfinished screw up in the plan."

"I don't follow you James." Arthur frowned and straightened.

"Well…" James' eyebrows pulled together and he fidgeted with his long sleeves. "I overheard him say the name 'Rebecca Kirkland'. I just thought… do you know that person?"

Arthur dropped the papers he was holding. "She's my wife."

James fell in a heap on the floor. "Oh my God."

* * *

"Please. Don't." Arthur was frozen, stuck, incapable of moving. He eyed the man who was dressed in all black, had a gun in one hand and his wife's arm in the other. Arthur begged for calmness and spoke into the receiver of the phone pressed into his ear.

They had been waiting for him, they knew that he would find out and that he would come home. Arthur thanked the heavens that Peter wasn't home. The man and his wife were standing by the doorway and from where Arthur was standing by the car it seemed everything was fine but he could _see _the sunlight glinting off of the metal of the gun.

"Please." Arthur tried again. "Whatever you want from us. Money, clothes, food, jewelry, my car, my house, take it, take it all. They're yours and you can have them just…"

"We don't need it Mr. Kirkland." The man smirked. "You can cooperate and this will be easy for both of us or you can be stubborn about this like all you Brits are. Nod once if you wanna hear more."

Arthur nodded.

"Good. You see, we're acquaintances of Kat. She's a patient of your wife's." The man answered, his red eyes narrowed as he spoke into his ear piece. "What we need now is to know just what exactly our dear Kat's told your darling wife so we can gauge just what happens from here on out."

"Those sessions are private!" Becca shrieked as she struggled in the man's arms. "I am not betraying her trust!"

"Stop moving! And shut up! You can't do that when she's dead." The man shook his head and tightened his grip on Becca and snarled. "I bet you were an accomplice with her murder. After all she probably told you everything, like where she lived, and what time she got home. Only her doctors would know such relative information."

"M-Murder? Wha? She killed herself!" Arthur snapped and paced himself. He hadn't come here unprepared. On the way he had already called his brother to come and when Gavin came it would be with reinforcements from the Yard. All he had to do was stall. Easy enough when you didn't have a man with a gun holding onto your wife.

"That's what we want them to believe. Whoever killed Kat will pay, but that'll only happen if we do things discretely. First things first though, tie up loose ends."

The sound of the gun shifting scared everyone but the man holding it and Arthur let out a shout. "Wait! Wait! Becca doesn't know anything! Kat was a private person except for what she did that particular day but nothing she gave was truly important!"

"Shut up! What is with you and screaming? Just announce it all to the whole world why don't-?!" The man paused and stared at him then glared. "You know stuff too."

"Oh my God, shut up Arthur!" Becca pleaded. "He doesn't know anything! I don't tell him anything! I swear it! I swear it!"

But the man was not listening. "Verdammt this complicates things. You guys got a kid don't you?"

"No." Arthur answered reflexively and took a step forward.

"Poster boy then?" The man smirked pointing the gun carelessly into the house, out of Arthur's view but he knew where it was pointed now. The family portrait of him, Becca, and… God, Peter.

Arthur narrowed his eyes and flinched when a bullet was clearly released from the gun. "Nephew. He's… my nephew."

"Those eyebrows beg to differ." The man pressed the gun back to Becca's temple and the woman stiffened even more, the first gunshot scaring her. "I'll ask again Tommy. You got a kid?"

"No."

"Very well." His finger lingered on the trigger.

Becca's eyes sparkled with unshed tears, but she remained strong in the man's hold, gaze fixed on her husband who was being held back by the gun at her head and mouthed the words she never said too often.

'_I love you_'.

**Click.**

* * *

**AN: **Well, hope that's interesting. The pairings for this fic are many but FrUk will be the focus. Actually I think I'll focus most on Arthur. The rest of the pairings will show up at some point. I'm hoping to incorporate a majority. There will be Spamano at some point, Ruscan, Gerita, Ameripan and past Prumano I think plus present Pruaus.

Becca is an OC, and so is James though I'd like to think that James is Washington D.C. and that Becca is probably London. She's gonna be dead anyways. Hue.

Food for thought; who was the man? (Bet you guys already know) and just how is Katyusha involved?

Do to tell me your thoughts on this! :D

Nique


End file.
